The world is tilting

The world is tilting
over
on to its side.
See it stepping over,
leaning to the right
and
stretching
out as far as it can.
And it can.
Hopefully for all time,
because in its purest form
I have hope enough for a thousand men.
And yet,
sometimes,
when the eastern bluebird sings her
low pitched chorus
that sits in the air,
coupling in stanzas
until a symphony is formed,
I find myself in pieces.



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